Book of Oneshots!
by Mrs. Wilbur Robinson
Summary: LATEST STORY: Green-Eyed Dress. Who knew how jealous Cornelius could really get! Please review. Those who know me know that my oneshots are always warm, fluffy and fuzzy. Strong Franny/Cornelius. Read at will!
1. Book Info

HEY THERE...

As you probably know, I've written a whole heck of a lot of oneshots. Mostly about teenage Franny and Cornelius. Teehee.

SO I have wisely decided to group all my new ones here, which I believe will make things easier for everyone (me inclusive). Each story is posted as a seperate chapter, and I will edit the summary each time a new oneshot is posted. The rating of 'K+' is a general term, but I will post in my author notes if a story needs a lower/higher rating.

Thankyou all of the people who have reviewed my stories (my heart goes out especially to you, Krystal Kerro Sky!! XD ), please feel free to spare a minute and tell me what you liked about each oneshot.

Enjoy!


	2. Christmas Gift

**_A/N: Loosely based off a 'Zits' comic. This oneshot kinda combines a few tiny ones I had been thinking about, so its basically shooting two birds with one Chargeball. Reviews, purdy please? _**

* * *

It was 7 PM, Christmas Eve.

Lewis wrapped his jacket further around his chest, the cold wind making him shiver as he trudged ahead. Lewis pulled out a small wrapped box from his pocket, and held it out in front of him. Kicking at a random rock on the sidewalk, he rehearsed in his head what he would say to Franny.

(_Knock, knock_.)

(_Door opens to reveal the stunning and popular Franny Framagucci, and she does not slam the door in your face…hopefully_. _Now take a deep breath and act natural_.)

'Hi, Fran'_…no, that's lame. _

'Hey there Franny… I was at the mall the other day and I saw-'_ argh, no, that's crap. What if her parents –or her brothers- answer the door instead of her? Great. _

'Hello, Gaston/Art/Mr/Mrs Framagucci. Is Franny there?' _Hmm._ _Like it hardly matters what you say…you'll probably end up blushing like a fool, then garbling some nonsense and running away. Like last year. _

'Here, Franny…this is for you.' _Ok._ _Now hand her the box…don't drop it. Good boy._

'_**For me? How sweet!' **_

'Merry Christmas, Fran.'

'_**(Gasp!) Please- come in!' **_

Lewis grinned at her imaginary face, almost slapping himself. Franny was as tough as nails, and would almost certainly never go all mushy over some science nerd. _I can dream, can't I?_

'Oh, I couldn't. It's just…when I saw those lovely earrings, they reminded me of you. I couldn't help myself.'

'_**Oh, Lewis!'**_

All wrapped up in his fantasy world, Lewis looked up to see he had actually passed Franny's house half a street ago. Running a hand through his hair, he approached her front door and stood on the doormat, watching the yellow glow through the frosted glass panel. _It's no big deal. Just a Christmas gift. So just press the darn doorbell before you psyche yourself out! _He took a deep breath, and pushed the doorbell.

* * *

"Franny, can you get that please?"

Franny nodded and put down her fork, hurrying over to the door. She opened it to find a very flushed and windblown Lewis. She smiled up at him.

"Hey, Lewis. What's up?"

He thrust a box at her.

"Hi. Here."

"Oh. Thanks," Franny said, and waited a moment for Lewis to say something. He didn't. She raised an eyebrow, closing the door with a soft click.

Franny watched his tall figure vanish from the glass panel, and sighed affectionately. _Well, he said more than last year's terrible attempt_, she thought. She slid down the front door, holding the little box like it was an ancient treasure chest. Franny bit down on her lip to contain the massive smile on her lips.

"Who was that, dear?" Her mother called from the dining room.

"Lewis…Robinson."

"Didn't he come by last year?"

"That he did."

"Sounds like that crush on you has disappeared yet, you lucky girl."

"Mmm."

"You know Franny…you might wanna do something about it, before he moves on to someone else."

Franny frowned. _A very good point. Why didn't you buy _him_ a Christmas gift? It's unlikely Lewis is going to wait another year. _Franny ran a hand through her hair, staring at the unopened little box in her hand. She made a decision.

* * *

Lewis stared at the door. _What the hell was that, Lewis!? You said two words! Very smooth, I'm sure Franny will be having a great little giggle right now._ Putting his freezing hands to his face, he turned and sank all the way down to the snow-covered welcome mat, groaning loudly.

Lewis leaned back against the door, letting his arms drop as he looked up at the dark sky. _Way to go, lover boy. _He sighed._ Maybe next Christmas. _He stood up to leave, realizing that his jeans were now soaked from sitting in the light snow. Lewis rolled his eyes. _This is the last thing I need right now_.

He had taken two steps before the front door opened again, and Franny came out flying. Straight into Lewis. He let out a loud '_oomph'_ as they collided; landing sprawled in the cold earth.

"Oh God Lewis, I'm so sorry-" Franny stammered, blushing furiously as she straightened her jacket. He sat up slowly and shook sleet from his hair, looking at her curiously.

"Don't worry about it…did you forget something?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you out here?"

"Oh." Franny paused. "I…um…just wanted to say…well, Merry Christmas, Lewis." After a moment's hesitation, she leaned over and kissed his burning cheek. "Thank you for the gift."

They sat like that in a snow for a moment, as a very embarrassed Franny pushed her fringe off her face and Lewis grinned like an idiot. She coughed, and Lewis snapped back to the present, helping her to her feet.

"Well."

"Yeah."

"Hope you like the present. I'm sure you have something you need to get back to…"

Franny nodded, and grasped his hand. "See you around, Lewis."

And that was it.

Lewis began his long walk back home with his hands deep in his pockets and the silly smile still plastered on his face. After he had put a good two blocks of distance between them, Lewis looked around before he punched the air and yelled at the top of his voice;

"YES!"


	3. Worth it

**_A/N: I've really missed writing oneshots, so here's my rusty writing for your reading pleasure. _**

* * *

Mildred sat, curled next to the warm glowing embers that remained in the fireplace. She sipped her coffee, her mind for once not on the children sleeping soundly upstairs, but on her own life. She loved the quiet, peaceful moments late at night when she could reflect, and think about her own past, her own future. She drank deeply from the cup, and sighed. Bliss.

_Crash_.

"Argh! _Dammit!"_

The young boy's voice floated downstairs, along with a sleepy chorus of 'ssh!' from the other orphans. Mildred resignedly put her cup down, getting to her feet as she walked the familiar path up to Lewis' dorm. It was the only room that flickered with the faint glow of the old lightbulbs, the rest of the building silent and as dark as any graveyard. Mildred knocked on the door before entering, noticing poor Goob wrapped up in his blankets like a caterpillar in a cocoon. Lewis was sitting at the desk, his back facing her. He was wearing an old basketball jersey and boxers, glasses slightly lopsided on his face as he banged the table repeatedly with his fists, kicking the desk with pale feet. The first thing Mildred noticed that was highly unusual was his head- the normally blonde strands on one side were coated with crimson blood, which she assumed was the reason for his exclamation. Rushing up to the six-year old child, Mildred turned the swivel chair around and crouched down so she was at eye level with him. The big blue eyes she had almost brought herself to fall in love with were red and puffy, filled with tears that threatened to overspill. _He's not your son, he's not your son, _she chanted in her head, a ritual she had to perform to most of the children whenever they got hurt. It was so hard to not want to kiss everything better, cradle them until they fell asleep, promising them that everything would be better in the morning.

"There there, it's alright," She murmured, wrapping her arms around Lewis while he continued to hiccup. Being careful to avoid the head wound as much as possible with her hands, Mildred surveyed the damage done. "What happened, Lewis?"

He sniffed, waving a small arm in the direction of the table as he began to speak with a slight lisp. "My newest machine, which is just as dumb as all the others. This-" he prodded at a spring- "Has to go here-" he jabbed at a rounded scrap of metal- "So that the electric current flows in the right direction, but it _doesn't work_!" He yelled suddenly, startling Mildred. Lewis collapsed back on her shoulder again as he sobbed his heart out. "Nothing I do works! Never! And I'm never gonna get adopted if I'm a good-for-nothing _loser_!" He whimpered, clutching at her nightgown.

Mildred shook her head. "You're not a loser, and this would probably fit together in the morning when you've had some sleep, and you're thinking straight. Now, how sore is your head? I think it merits a trip to the hospital, looks pretty nasty."

Lewis stopped crying momentarily, to look at her in confusion. "My head? What about it?" He reached up, then yelped as he touched the source of the blood. "I didn't even realise...must have been the metal bit over there." He pointed to a grey shard near Goob's bed.

Mildred looked at the little boy strangely. "Then what were you crying about, dear?"

Lewis threw another angry glance at his broken toy, and pouted. Mildred rolled her eyes, and picked him up. Lewis squirmed in her arms, breathing heavily as he wriggled from her grip. Mildred sighed, checking her watch. "What now, Lew?"

"I don't need the silly hospital, I don't wanna go! I gotta reboot the shircuits before they fry from exposure. Then I need to connect up the microchip board with the electromagnets from these optical wires here- can't _believe _I forgot that- and check for any mal-malfuc-manfulctio- things that went wrong in the modulator." He crossed his arms definately, nose in the air, blood trickling down his neck and glasses falling from one ear. Mildred stared at him. Lewis opened one eye to see if she had left, but was dissapointed. She ran at him, determined to make him see a doctor. Lewis bolted from the room, his fast little legs carrying him up the stairs to the roof as he repeatedly yelled, "I dont wanna go! You can't make me!"

Ten minutes later, the caretaker found herself wandering aimlessly around the rooftop, Lewis having dissipated into the darkness. An idea suddenly occured to her, and she glanced once more into the numerous shadows. Mildred sighed loudly, and walked back down the steps, making sure that her feet fell loudly on the cement. She shut the rooftop door and sat down to wait. It was barely a couple of minutes later when Lewis got scared, and poked his head around the door. Mildred lunged for the boy, and managed to get a handful of his jersey before he could fully react.

"Noo! Mildey, don't make me go! I don't wanna go! My head doesn't hurt heaps, I promise! The microshircuits-"

"The circuits can wait, Lewis," Mildred shushed, carrying the child from the orphanage. He beat his tiny fists against her back, but eventually gave up to exhaustion. She pushed him into the passenger seat of their battered bus, making sure the child lock was on before she shut the door. Lewis was glaring at her, arms folded once more, and huffed as she turned on the ignition.

"You'll regret this when I don't win this year's Nobel Science Award."

Mildred looked over at him, amused. He was deadly serious. Stifling a laugh, she pulled out of the lot and smiled at the miracle child beside her. "You know what Lewis? I think I'll live. You, however..." She grimaced at his head, before returning to silence. About a kilometer from the hospital, Mildred became aware that Lewis was mumbling words under his breath. Equations, she guessed, spinning the wheel past more lights. "What you thinking, Lew?" She asked the boy. He looked at her with those big, blue, bottomless eyes of his, and shrugged.

"About my inveshion. Shouldn't have left it. It'll be ruined," he said miserably. Mildred smiled at him, and added optimistically,

"They'll probably give you a lollipop at the hospital if you're good," she winked, and watched his young face light up at the prospect of sweets.

Lewis sucked on his thumb for a moment in thought, then added shyly, "I think my invenshion can wait for a bit. Besides, my head does hurt quite a bit," he mumbed, looking out the car window at all the pretty night lights. Mildred rolled her eyes, turning the old VW into the hospital's emergency section. Lewis eyed the building apprehensively, but allowed Mildred to unbuckle his seatbelt and lift him down to the ground. Holding her hand tightly, the pair walked slowly into the waiting room.

Half an hour later, after every nurse on nightshift had cooed over the shy little blonde orphan with the cute lisp and gorgeous eyes, Lewis and Mildred emerged from the hospital with not one, but two lollipops. Lewis was beaming, hardly giving the wrappings on his head any notice as he wrestled with the plastic cover on his sweets. Mildred was busy thinking how the orphanage would be able to pay off the fee, but managed to smile at Lewis as he spat out the plastic he'd ripped off with his teeth. Popping the lollipop in his mouth, Lewis climbed into the van and sat quietly as Mildred started the engine. She looked over at his happy face, and had to ask.

"Aren't you at least a little upset about the loss of your Nobel Prize?"

Lewis looked up at the caretaker, and spoke around a full mouth. "It was worth it," he grinned.

* * *

**_I imagined that Wilbur would have to have aquired some of his antics from his dad, so if Lewis seemed a little hyper...he's six, for heaven's sake!! I hope the ending wasn't lame, and I wanted Lewis to spout some sort of invention-babble, so if it makes absolutely no sense...it was supposed to? Heh, forgive little old me. If you want more of this kind of thing, or you have any ideas, please review, I dont care if its anonymous. D Love you all, and until next time...Keep Moving Forward! xx _**


	4. Achievements

**_A/N: Really random thought. Couldn't decide on a suitable ending, so I decided to throw it up anyway just in case someone here loves it. Just in case. This is based on the assumption that Franny & Lewis are both the same age, and Lewis still legally has to attend a school. I love him, I really do. :)_**

* * *

"…But then she did something to her hair, looks hideous, don't know why she bothers," Franny's so called 'friend' chattered on, as they walked into their homeroom for the first day of year 8. High school. Franny was terrified, and it showed on her rosy cheeks. Brushing jet-black hair from her face, she nervously studied the new people around her, looking for a kind smile to exchange. The two girls skipped down to the end row and carelessly dropped their school things on the back tables as the final bell rang.

"…and then he asked her out! Can you believe it? What nerve, he's nowhere near her league," Sarah continued noisily, as their teacher entered the classroom.

"Hello, everyone. My name is Mrs. Framagucci, or Lorraine if it's too hard to remember. Some of you will know me as Franny's mum," the woman smiled, winking at her daughter. Franny groaned inwardly, looking down at her feet as heads swivelled in her direction and her cheeks burned. _Thanks, mum. _"Welcome to your first day of high school. I'm sure you're all nervous, but really, it's not quite as hard as it's all cracked up to be. I can't say the same for my music students, you're in for a rough ride," She grinned, making a third of the students moan. "Now, seeing as I don't know most of your names, I want everyone, one at a time, to stand up where they're sitting and say their name and…their greatest accomplishment. What has made you proud. Would you like to go first, please?" She asked politely, pointing with a conductor's baton to a red-haired girl in the very back corner. The freckled girl's eyes grew wide, but nevertheless she stood up and spoke in a very high voice, "Hello…my name is Claire, and…well, I have five gymnastics medals." Everyone clapped as she sat down, and the next young boy stood up.

"The name's Luke. I can jump like Spiderman." Mrs. Framagucci rolled her eyes, but smiled as she pointed to the next student along the line. It continued for a few minutes, the girls blushingly revealing talents while the boys tried to out-do each others' boasts.

"I went to the Olympics for burger-eating!"

"I've outrun Cathy Freeman!"

"I recorded my second album with Santana yesterday!"

"I've kissed Marilyn Monroe!"

"Re-eally? The dead one?" Mrs. Framagucci laughed, cocking one eyebrow at the boy with a hand on her slim waist.

"She's _dead_? Aw, man…"

The jokes got better and better. Sarah would occasionally whisper little remarks to Franny, along the lines of, "He wishes!" or "You know, I wouldn't be surprised if he's actually done that…" to the point where Franny's mother began throwing the pair stern glances. She didn't do anything about it though until a thin boy in the front row with very blonde hair stood up, and Sarah giggled, "He's pretty cute!"

"Franny, can you sit down here from now on please? You two can stop distracting the class," Mrs. Framagucci said firmly, tapping the spare seat next to the familiar looking blonde boy.

"Lucky," Sarah whispered, as Franny rolled her eyes. Her mother turned back to the young man as Franny scooted in next to him.

"Sorry, what was your name again, love?"

"Lewis," he mumbled, pushing round glasses up the bridge of his nose. Franny suddenly remembered where she'd seen him before. '_I…think you're right,' he said nervously, and she lowered her arms from their karate pose. 'You do?' Franny asked, unsure. He nodded, grinning broadly until a man pushed her out of the way, asking the boy for an interview. _Franny couldn't believe it had been a whole year ago. Looking up at the older Lewis, she beamed at the blushing boy.

"Something I'm proud of…uhm…" he rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at the girl next to him.

"What _hasn't_ he accomplished that isn't 'great'? Such a nerd, he shouldn't even be here," One of the boys up the back said airily. Lewis turned even redder and tried to sit down, but Mrs. Framagucci stopped him.

"Go on, Lewis," She encouraged, shooting a warning glance at the offending teenager. Lewis was obviously thinking, and a moment passed before he said, "My family makes me proud. I couldn't ask for better, more loving parents." Then he abruptly sat back down.

Mrs. Framagucci grinned, clapping as she stared at the boy in front of her. "Wow, a proper answer from the one person in this class with a monumental number of achievements under their belt. Thankyou, Lewis."

He nodded, glancing over at Franny. She wondered why for a split second, but deemed it less important than his dazzling blue eyes. She could get lost in them, Franny sighed dreamily, twirling a curl of black hair around a finger as she watched Lewis doodling on some paper.

Mrs. Framagucci turned around, picking up a pen to begin scribbling in her tidy scrawl over the whiteboard. She couldn't help but hide her smile; her daughter could have done slightly more to disguise her interest in Lewis.

_She certainly has my own taste in men_, she thought idly, listening to the class' chatter. _It would be hilarious if they ended up married some day._


	5. Work Of Art

**_A/N: Huh. Exams next week, and what do normal people do? Study. What do I do? Write stories. Weird, hey. This one kinda came to me when I was sketching my fav MTR characters on the weekend. Lewis is 20, Franny 18. Please review, I luuurve to hear from you!_**

* * *

Lewis sighed, running a hand through his hair as he punched in numbers on his calculator. Clicking his pen out of habit, he skimmed his last line of equations. _That's not possible_, he fumed, tearing the sheet from his notebook and balling it up. "Why won't this _work_?!" He yelled in frustration, throwing it against the laboratory wall.

"Ooh, stay right there Lewis, that pose is perfect," Franny muttered from beside the desk. She pulled her knees up to rest her sketchpad better on her legs, scrutinising her boyfriend with her big brown eyes. He glanced towards her, watching her pencil fly over the paper.

"Franny, if you're going to sit there, be quiet."

"I am being quiet. But when you were turned at that specific angle, the light from the lamp was at the best possible position on your face, looked really nice. Now turn your head more to the left."

"Listen, I really don't have time for this, Carl's body desperately needs a mind. Something which is taking a whole year longer than I expected."

Franny shushed him. "Stop talking please."

"…Why?"

"Because your mouth needs to be in that lovely grim expression you do so well. This is an emotional portrait, and you communicate frustration really well."

Lewis quirked an eyebrow, grinning at Franny purely because she didn't want him to. "Is that some form of excuse because it looks nothing like me?"

She huffed. "Does so! Now shut up before I have to kiss you."

He raised his hands in mock horror. "Oh, please, no! Anything else, just…no kissing. Have mercy, cruel woman." Franny slapped his arm, and he shook his head in exasperation. Turning back to the tabletop, he opened to a new page and picked up his pen again. Carl's head sat on the bench opposite him, and Lewis thought hard about the Carl of the future. How he acted, how he talked, what made him _him_. _"Don't forget to invent me, little buddy." _Lewis rubbed his face, too tired to begin again. He checked the large digital clock on the wall, reading 11:46PM.

"You nearly done, Fran? Gotta drive you home sometime."

Franny pouted. "Can't I just stay here? Your parents don't mind."

"I know, but yours do. When's your curfew again?"

Franny glanced at Lewis, tilting her head to the side slightly so she could see from a better angle. "10:30," she replied evenly. Lewis groaned, and began lifting up papers in his search for his keys.

"Brilliant. Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"Because obviously I'd rather stay here with you. C'mon, just let me stay for a bit. Another few minutes isn't going to make much of a difference."

Lewis sighed again, and propped his feet up on the desk. Franny smiled at his grudging acceptance, adding a few lines to the paper.

"So what do you want to do then?" Lewis asked, arms behind his head as he watched his girlfriend draw.

"Whatever you want."

She paused, as Lewis gave her a look. "Besides what you're probably thinking of right now."

"…I am not."

"Then how do you know what I'm talking about, if you weren't thinking it?"

"Uh…I'm psychic?"

"Nice try," Franny giggled, poking Lewis with her foot.

"Can I at least get a kiss then?"

Franny tapped the pencil on her chin, as if thinking about it. "Depends on how good you are, maestro," She said, her voice a little softer as she abandoned her drawing, gracefully getting up off her seat. Lewis removed his bare feet from the desk, smirking.

"I learned from the best," Lewis replied in a very low voice, and she smiled as she sat in his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Who would that be…?" Franny murmured, placing tiny kisses along his jaw while she removed his glasses. He looked down at her affectionately, nuzzling his nose into her cheek.

"The love of my life," Lewis whispered, pressing his lips against hers. Franny sighed contentedly against his mouth, curling her hands into the blonde hair at he nape of his neck, urging him closer. When the heat became too much, they parted, both breathing rather heavily.

Lewis held Franny to his chest, gently combing his fingers through her loose hair. "I love you, you know."

She smiled into his shoulder. "I know."

"And you're an excellent kisser."

Franny laughed. "You're not too bad yourself. C'mon, I don't think I'll be able to leave if I stay another minute," she yawned, snuggling into his warm torso. He contemplated for a moment just letting her sleep in his king-sized bed, facing the consequences later.

"My mum would kill me, we've had a friendly 'chat' about that kind of thing about a month ago," Franny mumbled against his shirt, guessing what was running through her boyfriend's head.

"Tell her I can't afford to run you back and forth all the time, with the prices of fuel now days."

"That logic doesn't really apply here. Mum and dad know all about your new environmentally-friendly car, so you're stuck with the car trips bucko."

"Bugger. My room is just down the hall, with the nice, big, soft mattress…yours is about five kilometres away…"

"Don't remind me. Come on, I'm tired."

* * *

Lewis chucked the keys back on the desk, yawning widely as he began turning off the humming electronics in the lab. Franny's mother had guessed she would be home late, as usual, and hadn't bothered to wait up. Lewis was about to turn off the overhead lights when he spotted Franny's sketchpad still lying near the bench. Curious, he wandered back and picked it up, flipping over to the drawing of himself.

He was quite surprised at how well the sketch turned out, and although there were a few missing gaps needed to be filled, the picture itself was rather impressive. In the sketch he was sitting at his desk, a book lying open in front of him, looking out of the window with his chin resting on one hand. His back was facing the viewer and everything was shaded to the tenth degree, but the overall composition really struck him. Lewis smiled at the picture, putting it back down fondly. He looked one last time around the room, noticing Carl's head grinning metallically from the desk.

"What are you laughing about?"

Lewis walked over and was about to pick the head up, when a dubious thought crept into his mind, and Carl's smile seemed to get wider. Snatching the drawing again, Lewis scanned it with wide blue eyes and almost choked. _Where are my clothes?!_


	6. Cold Feet

**_Hey all. This came to me in the middle of my maths exam today... -slaps face in annoyance at how my brain works.- _****_I'm pretty sure it's only a K, full of Franny/Cornelius fluff_****_. I have the next chapter of College ready also, and I'm itching to post it, so please go and review. Enjoy! _**

* * *

All was quiet.

All was peaceful.

All was heavenly.

_Click_. "...Next up on the Morning Show we have a very old classic for those with some memory left, Shania Twain's hit single-"

_Slam_.

All was quiet.

Franny smiled slightly as Cornelius muttered something dark about the early-morning radio broadcaster, and she reveled in the warm sheets of their massive bed as she felt his weight shift, and he swung his bare form over the side of the mattress. She heard him swear loudly when his feet hit the floor, and she shivered as the cold air continued to drift between the sheets.

"Just get up already, it's freezing," She muttered into her pillow.

Franny was quite surprised when he did the opposite, sliding back into bed next to her. Slipping his arm around her waist, he buried his head in her neck and seemed quite content to go back to sleep.

"Honey? You got work in an hour," She told him sleepily. He ignored her, and she yelped when his feet touched legs. They were cold as ice, but he didn't remove them. She tried to squirm away, but he hooked a leg over her own and kept her spooned in front of him. She huffed. "Since when did I become your personal hot water bottle?"

Cornelius didn't even look up as he answered softly, his voice rough from sleep. "Since out wedding night. Now be quiet."

Franny was fully awake now, and figured her husband needed to be as well in order for him to go to work. "Get up, you big baby. You'll warm up quick enough."

"Says you. I don't see you leaping out of bed at 5 am to go to work."

"I'll make you breakfast if you get up."

"No you won't, once you hit that floor."

"It can't be that bad."

Cornelius just snuggled deeper into her shoulder, and she sighed. "You can't call in sick, you already skipped half of last week because of Wilbur's camp."

"I can do what I want, I own the company. Ssh," He mumbled into her ear, and Franny rolled over so she could look at his face. Cornelius looked so peaceful asleep, and she missed just being able to lie for long hours in bed together. However...

Cornelius seemed to guess, with his eyes closed, that she was about to make another weak attempt at forcing him out of bed. He sat up, and registered the look on his wife's face. "If I get up, so do you."

"I'd rather sleep."

"So would I."

"You have work; I don't."

Cornelius bent down, and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Forgive me, then."

"For what...?"

Cornelius picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and walking on his knees to the end of the bed. Franny was laughing and screaming simultaneously, and clung on to him as he tried to shake her off his back and onto the deathly cold floor.

"You asked for it."

"I did not!! Put me down!"

"OK then," he mumbled, and promptly dropped her on the floor. Franny landed on her backside, and almost immediately shrieked, scrambling to climb back on the bed. Cornelius sat grinning at her, back beneath the covers as she practically launched herself at him.

"That was _soooo_ horrible-"

"_'It can't be that bad,_'" Cornelius taunted in a high-pitched imitation of Franny's voice, and she gritted her teeth.

"Watch it, mister."

He laughed, pulling her close to his chest as they settled back into the warm sheets, and Franny continued to shiver.

"If anyone asks...my feet fell off from pneumonia." He opened one eye to look at her. "So did your butt." Cornelius smirked, and she growled.

"Only because you dropped it onto the floor," She scowled.

"You deserved it," he said into her hair, eyes closed and his tone of voice indicating that the conversation was over. Franny smiled, shaking her head as he wrapped an arm around her waist, sinking into the heavenly bliss of sleep next to the one you love. _Maybe skipping work once in a while isn't so b_ad, she thought drowsily, wrapping her cold legs around his own.

All was quiet.


	7. Read For Me

"'...He swept her up in his strong, muscled arms, and she almost swooned in the feel of his strong grip. The deck below her and the wind in their hair swept her flowing white dress around their bodies, and the sunset atmosphere couldn't possibly be more perfect. Kyla looked up into the scorching eyes of her pirate, her love, her life. Will leaned down, intent on capturing her lips in a kiss that expressed all of his desire and passion for her...' Franny, _please_ don't make me read anymore. I'm going to be sick."

"But it's my favorite story!"

"And you're not three anymore, I'm sure you can read it yourself, you're a big girl."

"But I like it when _you_ read it."

"Why? You can't hear the dripping sarcasm echoing in my deep, manly voice?"

"I choose to ignore it."

"Seriously. These books make simple kisses sound better than sex."

"That's the point, it's _romance_."

"Reeeally? So, who would you choose? Will, or me?"

"You know the answer."

"Yes, I do. And I don't use half the thees and thous that this puffed-up popinjay spouts, just for the sake of _romance_."

"You're a nerd, you make up for the lovely bathetic talk by other technical words I still can't pronounce."

"But you love me for it."

"...Yes. If you keep reading."

"I can't. Honestly. I'll allergic to paper that's been cried on by numerous females too many times, as they desperately and enviously wish to be fair Kyla on her pirate ship, in the arms of a bloke on steroids..."

"C'mon, please honey, you're not even at the good bit yet."

"There's _more_ sentimental goo? Even mushier than this?"

"Cornelius."

"I didn't believe it could get any worse. I mean, better..."

"Read it or face the consequences."

"And what would they be?"

"You, sleeping on the couch for a week."

"..."

"Don't smirk at me. I'm completely serious."

"Over this book?"

"A-huh."

"I think we need marriage counseling."

"I think you need a kick up the rear."

"I have an idea. Why don't we read one of _my_ books?"

"We've already discussed this, dear. You read encyclopedias."

"What's so wrong about that?"

"It's not...completely normal."

"You calling me strange?"

"Yep. And I'm allowed to, because I'm you're wife."

"Well, I think books like these are going to your head."

"Maybe they make up for your own lack of charm."

"Lack of charm? Me? I resent that."

"Are you gonna read or what?"

"Nope. I refuse to participate in your delusional fantasies any more."

"Shame, really."

"What is?"

"You not sleeping here any more."

"I thought you were kidding."

"..."

"Don't smile like that, it's scary."

"..."

* * *

"Dad?"

"...Yeah?"

"How long are you sleeping on...huh. Don't worry. Goodnight."

"'Night."

"...Dad?"

"Yeah, Wilbur?"

"Next time...read the darn book."

* * *

**_A/N: Dedicated to my lovely friend, whom I love very much. Please review, I didn't know if this kind of style suited my writing...hope it went well. Hope the dialogue fitted them. Hope you liked it._**


	8. S' ayapo

_**A/N: The title,**_ _S' ayapo**, is Greek for 'I Love You.'**_

* * *

"Lewis?" I breathe into his ear, waiting for a response.

The lump beside me didn't move, except for the steady rise and fall of his chest. My cold fingers skim across his stomach, shaking him gently. "Lewis?" I ask again, only barely louder. My husband groans, rolling over so he's facing me, our noses only centimeters apart. His eyes are still closed from sleep, and his hair an absolute blond mess, sticking up in every possible direction. I can barely make out his features in the dark and quiet of the night.

"Fran..." He mumbles, and I feel his hand on my waist soothingly, protectively. "...What's wrong?"

I reach down and hold his hand in my own, entwining our fingers together in the warmth of the sheets. "Do you love me?"

I can feel his eyelashes against my cheek flutter as he blinks. The drafty air swirls around me suddenly as he raises his body onto one elbow, wiping at his eyes so he can see if I'm being serious. "Are you serious?"

I sigh, my hand touching the wedding band around his finger. "...Do you love me?"

I can make out the outline of his face with my night-adjusted eyes, and the expression he's wearing is clearly one of surprise. "Franny, I find it really...sad of me that you even have to ask that. It should be clear how much I completely adore you, which means somewhere along the line my communication is extremely bad."

"It's not that I don't know...well. I need to hear you say it, again." My eyes are pleading, not that he can see them through the blackness and lack of glasses. He looks over his shoulder, and I can guess that he's raising an eyebrow at the time displayed on the digital clock.

"I'll say it a million times every day if it makes you happy. Because it's true. And during the middle of the night, too, if you so desire..." He whispers back, still confused. I can hear a slight note of hurt in his voice, and do my best to dispel it.

"Don't think you're a bad husband or anything, I'm just...having a moment, I suppose." He lies back down, his head now resting beside me on the pillow. His arm holds me tighter, and his legs curl over my own. His lips found mine in the darkness; the kiss slow and soft. His hand travels down my arm, resting on my swollen belly.

"I-" He kissed me again, "-love-" And again, "-you. Always. Forever and ever, Franny. I don't want you doubting that, because I don't even pretend to doubt your love for me." I nod against his jaw, my hands pressed against his bare torso and my searching brown eyes looking into his own sleep-drugged sapphire ones.

"I love you too," I murmur quietly, rubbing his stomach reassuringly. He rests his chin on top of my head, and exhales deeply.

"No more 'moments', OK? I won't allow them. Especially at this unholy hour."

I smile, and bury my nose in the groove of his collarbone. After a minute of silence, in which I sense Lewis falling again into unconsciousness, I become aware of his steady heartbeat against my ear. His heart; thump, thump. Thump, thump. Hearts. A symbol of love, love for one another. My husband's love for me, my love for him. Pulsing waves of warm and emotional feelings, directed at a single person. My soul mate, my desire. My husband.

I look up at the sleeping man, who I will happily spend the rest of my life with. This dedicated, smart, successful, happy, devoted man, soon-to-be father...loves me. Not just any old love, or crush. He_ loves _me. I savour the words, rolling them around my mind, then my tongue. It becomes too much, and I have to hear them again. My hand finds his shoulder, and I shake him silently, yet with a hint of urgency. "Lewis?"

He had barely fallen asleep, and awoke with a sigh. "Mm?"

"...Do you love me?"


	9. Green Eyed Dress

_**A/N: I'm back. Finally. Sorry for the slow update, I'm trying to write about four stories at once...not a good thing, in retrospect. I quite like this oneshot, and I hope you do too.** _

* * *

Franny peered into the bathroom mirror, her sparkling diamond earrings glinting in the low lighting. Straightening up, she eyed her trim figure appreciatively, turning around so she could get a better view of her backside in the form-fitting dress.

"Franny, have you seen my- oh."

Cornelius stopped in the doorway, one hand on the wall as he stared open-mouthed at his fiancée. She giggled at his expression, and he visibly shook himself. "Uhm...new dress?"

Franny nodded, examining her lipstick for smudges. "Yup. Like it?" She watched his image in the mirror scoff.

"That was a rhetorical question, right?" Cornelius asked her, his eyes still unable to rest on her face for more than a second, choosing instead to flit all over her body. Franny smiled at him, her own eyes raking his outfit. They were both in black-blue, Cornelius in a smart dress shirt and slacks, and Franny with her long and simple sparkling gown. It looked stunning; her long legs appeared even taller, and it hugged her slim curves in all the right places. Franny laughed, and walked over to him as gracefully as if she were floating.

"What were you saying? We gotta get going." She toyed with his buttons for a minute, and Cornelius plumb forgot everything on his mind.

"It was, er...uhm, I think...shoes. Yes, that's it. Seen my shoes around?" He blinked, running a hand through his unmanageable hair and looking around her apartment. Franny rolled her eyes, pulling him over to the walk-in wardrobe and taking them from the shelf. The shelf they were always on.

"Your eyesight is getting worse everyday, I swear," Franny told him as she shoved the shoes against his chest. He grinned, walking over to the bed so he could slip them on. Franny watched him with one hand on her hip. "Those contacts can't be good for you."

Cornelius looked up, his hair almost obscuring his vision. "That's why I hardly ever wear them. Did you know...that you look...beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous."

Franny smiled in gratitude, picking a bit of imaginary lint of her shoulder. She picked up her handbag, looking expectantly at Cornelius, who finished with his shoe laces. "You ready? Or I'll go with one of the other men lined up to date me."

Her bouncy tone somehow got lost between her and her husband-to-be, and he bit down on his lip. The atmosphere in the room changed in that instant, and Franny said quietly, "What's wrong?"

Cornelius eyed the dress again, as if seeing it from a whole new perspective. "This is gonna sound weird...but can you wear something else, please?"

Franny's face fell, and she looked down at her outfit. "Why?"

Cornelius paused, and opened his mouth. Franny beat him to the punch. "You just said you liked it! And I've go no other dresses in that colour, and I spent hours picking it out just for tonight!"

Cornelius shook his head, standing up and striding back into the walk-in. Franny followed as he began searching through her large collection of dresses, picking out a few at random. "Cornelius! Why can't I just go in this? What's the problem? Not 'good' enough for your little company dinner thing?"

He hesitated, but stopped so he could look at her. "It's...too good. You're too pretty for me to handle tonight," He said by way of explanation. Franny still didn't understand.

"What is that supposed to mean? I _like_ looking my best!"

"Look. You have to be the most attractive woman in the city, and I know for sure that I'm not the only guy who's noticed that. I don't want to handle all the looks people are bound to throw your way tonight, OK?" He put his hand on the shelf, refusing to meet her narrowed eyes.

Franny lifted her chin, folding her arms across her chest. "I don't see how it's such a big deal."

"It's a big deal to _me_. Can you try to respect that, please? Don't you ever see how furious I get, whenever you return a smile to some guy who's practically _leering_ at you-" Cornelius said in exasperation, before Franny interrupted him.

"They don't _leer_, stop being melodramatic-"

"-I'm not, and you know it-"

"_What do you want me to do?_" Franny yelled, throwing her hands up. Cornelius sighed.

"Act... like I matter to you. And that these men don't."

"What if I care about everyone's opinions of me?" Franny said indignantly, stepping inside his personal space- which wasn't exactly a hard thing to accomplish, considering the size of the cupboard.

Cornelius glared at her. "Are you serious!? Do you really enjoy the attention that much?"

"I might. It's nice to see you get jealous." Franny raised one eyebrow, noting with some satisfaction the angry flush on his cheeks.

"I don't believe this! You expect me to live with that? You can't just parade about in front of other men, knowing how you can make them feel! It tears me apart!"

Cornelius was almost shouting now, his tone incredulous. Franny didn't like it when he dominated their arguments, and said back with equal volume but at a much higher pitch, "It happens to everyone, _Lewis_! A little jealousy is the only thing that makes you really pay any attention to me!"

"Is that what you think?!"

"YES!" She screamed, pushing both hands against his chest.

"You're wrong, Franny!" Cornelius said viciously, his face red with fury.

"You know I'm always right!"

"Not this time. I hate it when you dress up like this, and go flaunting absolutely everything you have to every guy in the country-" He gestured wildly with his hands, throwing about five of her carefully ironed dresses onto the floor, barely keeping the urge to stomp on them at bay.

"_Why?_ It's not a criminal offense!"

"It should be!"

"What makes you say that?!"

"Because. You're. _Mine,_" He growled, discarding the little black dress he was holding, grabbing her wrists and yanking her towards him. Cornelius held Franny tightly, his head bowed next to her ear. "...You're mine."

The sudden stillness of the room was resolute, nothing disturbed the air except the couple's heavy breathing slowly returning to a normal rate. Franny sighed softly, breathing in his musky scent and feeling the warmth his chest and arms offered. She didn't realize just how protective her fiancé could get. It was almost what one could call...territorial.

"...Not for any other guy. You...I just-" Cornelius faltered, his voice cracking.

"I know, honey."

"Then why do you do it?" He whispered, tightening his grip around her shoulders. Franny shook her head slowly, suddenly exhausted.

"I don't know," She admitted quietly, her voice hoarse from their shouting match.

Cornelius frowned. "I don't want to have to fight for you."

"You shouldn't have to, I'm sorry," Franny mumbled into his shirt, feeling incredibly emotional after their short outburst. Cornelius pulled back, holding her at arms length and searching her face. Franny couldn't decipher what he was thinking, and felt hot tears prickling the inner corners of her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, anything which might cause the guilty lump in her throat to disappear, but he shrugged.

"Forget it. Let's go." Cornelius walked back out of the small room, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Franny sighed, looking down at her dress in dismay. All it had so far achieved was a pointless argument which would ruin their evening, as it still had yet to be resolved. All the admiring glances she may receive tonight didn't mean a thing if her fiancé didn't even want to look at her.

"Franny, hurry up, we're late already."

She turned to face the full-length mirror, and couldn't see what was so special anymore. In fact, she looked downright ugly with the stupid thing on. Franny reached up to free the shoulder strap, feeling nothing but a need to get the cursed dress off.

"_Franny_, I'm serious, if you don't wanna go, just tell-" Cornelius' eyes widened as he walked into the wardrobe, Franny's half-naked form right in front of him. He swallowed, trying to moisten his suddenly dry throat. "-me."

She shook her head, reaching up to undo her hair clip. "I don't want to go."

Cornelius nodded slowly, trying his hardest to stop staring. He quickly backtracked, and almost tripped over the doorway. Franny watched in amusement, running her fingers through her loose, tousled hair. "...And I don't want you going, either."

Cornelius looked up, confused. Franny shrugged as she stepped out of the dress, kicking it aside with her high-heels and saying softly, "It's not right to go on pretending we didn't just disagree. I don't deserve you; I shouldn't be acting like the class skank, three months before our wedding. I shouldn't be acting like that at all, wedding or not. And I can't believe it's taken you so long to point it out to me." Franny lifted her head so she could look him in the eyes. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Cornelius rubbed the back of his neck, still averting his eyes as he leaned back against a pile of moving boxes. "I know."

"...Forgive me?"

He sighed, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a small smile. "Of course. Like you said, it's not a criminal offense...I just get...carried away, I suppose."

Franny shook her head, her hair swaying behind her like rippling water. "It's like _you_ said...I'm yours. Which means you have special privileges that no over man is privy to. They are only allowed to look." She stopped right in front of him, and raised an eyebrow smoothly. "Do you still want to go?"

Cornelius bit his lip. "...Not particularly." He glanced towards the discarded dress, and smiled as Franny's uncovered arms slowly curled around his neck. They never could hold grudges very well. "Why did you take it off? Did I mention how fantastic you look in that thing?"

Franny kissed him once, shaking her head. "It's going in the bin. So is this outfit, by the way," Franny muttered, poking his dress shirt. Cornelius presented her with his best puzzled look, which didn't come often for the famous inventor extraordinaire. She smirked, and tangled her hands in his blond hair. "You're not the only one who gets jealous." Franny pressed her lips against the tip of his nose, and whispered, "You're _mine_."

* * *

_**I want to thank everyone who's taken the time to review! -hugs-** _

**Coming up next: I've had a request from **_Link Fangirl01_**, so the next chapter will be dedicated to her. Who wants to see our favourite couple get married?? XD**


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